i miss everything so much to the point where i'm beginning to try to do things on my own, away from you. and it's so hard because i just want to hold on. you're talking about somebody in your book, and i don't know who because why would it be me, the person who broke your heart and shattered you further into your hurting?
and today is five years since and next year will be six.
sometimes, i tell you the truth about how i'm feeling, but most the time, i tell you what i want to feel. i want to feel good. i want to be great. i don't want to spend my life counting days that only matter to me.
it's awful because i fucked up and i still want you the way you are. i still want to see you. i still want to kiss you. i want to distract you from the bad things because you're my good. i want to show you that i'm not the way i was and that from you, i'll never run.
i want to be able to talk to you and tell you everything because there's doors i have yet to open to you.
yet i give you space because i don't know anything about what you want, and i understand that i don't know as much about you as i wish since i lost your trust.
i'm sorry
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Pained
PoesíaBook #3 in the Drained series Love with a darkness within. (Rants included, along with my old collections from journals I've written in the past)
